By The Devil's Side
by screammealullaby
Summary: Alfred Jones, a young man in England can't imagine anything better than working for the feared pirate Captain Arthur Kirkland... What is it like to work with a man thought to be the devil himself? Pirate AU, UsUk
1. An Invite to the Sea

Alfred F. Jones, a young man in England, finds himself sneaking around the harbor. The gossip of country runs about a pirate ship, captained by a venomous Brit. He's known as the man without weakness, rumored to have never left a man on an enemy ship alive. In some places, it even goes so far as to say he's always controlled the waters; throughout all of history he's never aged and is supernatural, or even the devil himself. Alfred, being young, believes this is a sight to see.

He wanders around the docks routinely, hoping one day to see the devil's ship captained by the mysterious Arthur Kirkland.

…

Today is no different. Alfred saunters along, watching the sea. He strategically dodges sailors and, though some of them glare at him, he's invisible to most. The skies are dark, threatening to rain and even the horizon is a blur of grey. He would give anything to be out on the sea, having his whole future planned out in front of him. He imagines himself at head of a magnificent pirate ship with a crew to complete, taking the control of the sea so one day he will inevitably meet the legend he so idolizes.

Blue eyes glitter with hope, just as they did the first day he stared out across the water upon hearing about the pirate. No matter how many years he's waited, he'll never lose hope that he'll be a captain someday. The clouds hold to their threat as rain begins to sprinkle. He ignores it, as it's only a little rain but soon enough it gets harder, wind whipping the water and making the port chill. Thunder and lightning begin and he's about to start running home with one last outward glance at the sea.

Of course, if this was a story about his everyday life, he would return home and go to bed but no, this is a special day. Before he sets off running he forgets about the rain when he sees something amidst the fog of the horizon... Something small, and eerie, miles out to sea and he squints behind his thin framed glasses. Alfred notices it's a ship, though its sails are dark and tattered from what he can tell. "No way..." He whispers, running to the edge of a dock. He shields his already blurred glasses from the rain, attempting to get a better look. "Supposedly, only one person would sail in this weather."

"Find something interesting out there, boy?" A Frenchman, Francis, appears beside him.

Alfred in turn nearly falls off the dock. He's the only one in town who has (secretly) noted that Francis Bonnefoy, French pirate, only appears in the town when the devil's ship was rumored to have been seen. "Y-you?"

"Do you know me?" Francis raises an eyebrow deviously.

"Don't get conceited, not many pirates openly come to this port. Especially those as wanted as you." The younger man cautiously, yet excitedly watches Francis.

"Oui, I have been called brave, if you will but it means nothing unless _relations_ are the outcome." A smile creeps over his lips and he leans closer to Alfred.

"Some pirate you are, hitting on a much younger one." He glares, though he wants to be careful in case his suspicions are correct and he does in fact sail with Arthur Kirkland.

"A much younger one? Are you trying to tell me _you're_ a pirate yourself?" He laughs an odd French laugh and shakes his head. "What flag do you sail under? Sorry kid, I don't see it. You're no pirate."

"Tell me then, who's flag do _you_ sail under?" He's not expecting to receive the answer of 'Arthur Kirkland', that's for sure.

"Have you heard of the Devil's right hand man?" He whispers lowly as a dark aura surrounds them. Alfred doesn't even notice the storm powering around them anymore as the Frenchman leans towards him closer still. "The soulless bastard that owns the seas, with a crew of one? I'll let you in on a secret, he doesn't have crew of one... I sail with the most evil Brit ever to set foot on English shores."

"Arthur Kirkland?" Alfred whispers, a little too loud and is instantly shushed.

"Are you trying to get us caught? You idiot! The captain isn't exactly welcomed in this port now be quiet! Although, it makes me sad that I can walk on these docks without ill respect, but everyone fears the 'devil captain' that rules the sea. Damn it, I'm second only to him! I'm the first mate, and you're the only one who knows we sail the same ship." Francis mumbles the last part angrily.

"How did you get to be first mate on his ship?" Is all Alfred got out of his ranting.

"How? Arthur and I are _very_ close, mon cher." He says with a dark simper.

"Are you trying to tell me the most deadly pirate rumored to humanity is interested in men? Seriously, how could _I_ get to work on his ship?" Alfred looks back out over he ocean, seeing the ship still far off in the distance.

"I'm in charge of the crew actually. Arthur is far too busy to worry about annoying boys like you."

"Boy? I'm a man! Damn it, what do I have to do? Come on, I'll leave everything behind! I want nothing more than to be a pirate! I'll do anything on the ship! I'll clean, anything!"

"Look... I'll be back tomorrow. Be here, tomorrow night after the sun goes down, and_ maybe _I can find something for you. No promises, so don't start saying your goodbyes."

"Thank you, thank you so much!" Alfred beams at the Frenchman, who rolls his eyes.

With a final wave, he shivers, realizing he's soaking wet and it's still raining and begins running home. He sprints through the streets and alleys, taking every shortcut to make it home soon. There isn't much to avoid since everyone is inside from the storm. He runs into the house dripping wet and panting before he lights a lantern and pulls off his clothes. He pulls on his night clothes, and slumps onto his bed after setting his light on the small table beside it.

"Me? Working for Arthur Kirkland? Someday I know I'll surpass him and take over his ship! I'll be a legend! _I'll_ be known to work for the devil himself!" He stands up, almost yelling. "_I'll_ be the most feared man in England! Plus, look _amazing_ in corsair attire!" He looks around his dilapidated home. "I'll be fine with leaving this place." He lives alone in a rundown building, and really has _nothing_ he'll miss.

He won't sleep much that night, too excited to hear what the Frenchman has to say. It's a day away, though feels as though it's an eternity. What to do for one day...?

_**~K**_

**Kay guys, going into a pirate story obviously! This chapter was in fact intended to be this short. It's to the point, but the real mystery comes when Alfred gets his answer. Will he join the Brit's ship? Or what else might happen? Who knows? This will be a UsUk story, though not very fluffy as they're pirates =D yaaay! Everyone seemed to love the last AU story I did, and I was going to start a Spamano one but got this idea instead~ I'll update soon, but I have to work all week D: I miss not having a job -.- ohhh welllll! Let me know what you think, and what you want! My story line is never set in stone! R&R Pleaseeee**


	2. Welcome? Aboard

The day is just as grey as the one before, and Alfred can't wait for the sun to fall. He wakes up late in the afternoon, seeing as he didn't sleep much that night and manages to waste his day at home. He doesn't exactly have a job, and doesn't have anything he needs to do. A few hours before sundown, he decides to leave his house in favor of going to the harbor anyway, just to watch the sea.

The air is rank of fish, though no boats, and few ships have launched. Another storm is expected, though Alfred thinks they're a bunch of ninnies for not taking a risk. What's the mere threat of death if it's to sail the world? The young man would give _anything _to be on a ship and if it weren't for the Frenchman, he would sneak onto a ship and leave forever. Now, instead, he saunters along the harbor, watching the _whole_ surrounding ocean in hopes of spotting the ship again.

His heart speeds at the thought; this is a dream come true. He's always dreamed of seeing the damned ship, and now he has _and_ may even get to work on it, if all goes well. Sundown is still more than an hour off, though it's hard to tell through the blanket of clouds. Alfred sighs heavily, plodding along over the damp ground.

Suddenly, he finds himself alone, a ways from buildings, people and ships. Now, he's merely on the untouched shore, standing beside the water. It's oddly peaceful, though there's something uneasy about the scene, and he has every right to feel that way. He feels a sharp pain in the back of his head and he can't seem to focus anymore as the world darkens around him. He stumbles to stay on his feet in vain, and hears watery voices, one specifically _French _as he finally falls to the ground, unconscious.

…

"What the bloody hell do you want _me _to do with him? He's a kid! I don't need a kid mucking up my ship." Annoyed words spew from a Brit.

"I think it would be good to have him here! He'll be as low as the rats! Unpaid, overworked! Come on, he'll be there for anything we need, and we can just kill him at any time! He's made it clear he has no family, and nothing at 'home' he'll regret leaving. It's perfect monsieur!" Francis tries to reason, mostly just wanting an unpaid and completely usable cabin boy.

"Fine. But I say the word, you kill him. That's all there is to it, now bring me another drink. I cannot _stand_ this port." Arthur Kirkland, known to be the devil himself...

"Arthur, we're not even in the harbor."

"That's _Captain_ to you, you prat. I don't care _how_ long you've known me, you'll address me as Captain!" The relative quiet is shattered, as well as a rum bottle upon the wall of the Captain's quarters of the ship.

"Relax! You're drunk!"

Alfred can groggily make out voices as he finally comes to. He hears two distinct accents: one British, and one French. He wonders who's company he's in, but is distracted when he tries to move by a throbbing headache.

"Get him out of here before I have to deal with him. He's _your_ problem, Bonnefoy. Take him with you to your quarters and I never want to see him again."

Alfred notices for pirates, they certainly speak well. Not the 'arghh' and 'aye matey' crap. He's intrigued until suddenly he realizes what he's hearing: an angry, entitled British pirate. _'Arthur...?'_ Alfred manages to sit up, as he's lying on the floor, with a pained groan.

"I can see he'll be trouble already. Get him out of my sight."

"So cold, _Arthur._" Francis teases, until a blunderbuss is aimed steadily at his head. Even when he's drunk, the Briton's aim is never off.

The captain looks a his weapon curiously, inevitably taking it's aim off of the Frenchman. "This isn't my gun..."

"Yes, it is." Francis argues, suddenly annoyed.

"No it's bleeding not!" Emerald eyes light with fury and he stands from his chair. "I wouldn't use such rubbish!"

"_Captain,_ I'll take Alfred to my quarters then. I'll come back to check on you and find the rightful owner of the gun." He holds his hand out to the sandy blond pirate, who hands him the weapon and falls back into his chair.

Francis pulls Alfred, who's just witnessed that, but doesn't volunteer and explanation.

"Was that-?"

"Captain Arthur Kirkland, though you'll be lucky if he even lets you call him that."

"W-wow! Wait a minute, what happened? Last thing I remember is standing on the shore..."

"There was a lot you couldn't know." Francis cuts him off hurriedly, not looking at him as he walks. "That's all there is to it. We knocked you on the head, brought you here, and good news for you, you'll be staying on the ship."

"R-really?" Alfred instantly lights up.

"I'm glad you're excited, at this point you have no choice." Francis mumbles and Alfred almost has a feeling of wanting to go home. _Almost._ This is what he's always wanted, and he's finally made it. "Some words of advice, never even look at the Captain, you'll be overboard without a second thought, never anger the crew, and absolutely _no_ thoughts of mutiny. The Captain has his way to deal with lad's of the sort. For anyone else on this ship, the rule is no women allowed on board but for you, you are to bring no one at all. I'll explain more of the regulations as we go, we're leaving this god awful harbor today."

"Today? Can I at least tell my brother something? Like, I got a job in another city or something?"

"Brother? You didn't say you had family. No, if you tell him you're in another city, he'll want to write to you and visit. No, he'll receive no warning of your disappearance and assume you've been killed."

"Killed? I can't do that to my brother!"

Francis suddenly stops walking and flips around to glare evilly at the younger man. "You're annoying me already. You _will_ do as we say, you say yourself you would do so to sail with us. What's more, if you intend to work on a pirate ship, you can't have such tedious morals. This is your only warning, if you make me break my gate again for something so ridiculous, you're gone. Understood, Jones?"

"Y-yes."

"You might address me as _sir,_ boy."

"Yes sir." Alfred says more confidently.

"Damn it, frog. What the hell have you done with my rum! I told you I want another drink!" The Captain stumbles around the corner and Alfred gets a good look at him. He's so much...younger than he expected. "And where is my gun? I can't find it!"

"And why might you need it?"

"The crew is annoying me." He stumbles, leaning against the wall. He has a vibrant green eye, the other covered by an eye patch and sandy blond hair poking out from beneath a large black hat that's topped with a magnificent feather. He's certainly dressed as a captain; frock coat fastened snugly over a ruffled white shirt that's tucked into a pair of tight pants, stopped by a pair of boots mere inches below his knees. His holster on his belt holds no gun but a magnificent sword rests beside it.

"That's not a reason to need your gun!"

"Bloody hell, why do I keep you on my ship?"

"We both know the answer to that, even if you're drunk."

"Oh for the love of God himself! And what the hell do _you _want? You should know better than to look at a superior in such a way, if not at all!" He snaps at Alfred, who had been gawking in amusement.

"S-sorry Captain sir!" Alfred drops his head, slightly angry he'd treated so lowly.

"Captain Kirkland, at least. And belt up, you twit! You can't be so submissive to an enemy, for all you know we just brought you here to kill you!"

Alfred straightens himself instantly, never taking his eyes off the Brit contrary to the Frenchman's warning. He's really good looking as well, for his reputation that is. "Well then, I believe that's out of the way. Now Francis, I'll be taking this one of your hands, I rather like him."

"How drunk are you?" Francis is suddenly alarmed and Alfred is somewhat offended.

"Oh bugger off, I don't have to explain myself to you. Send him to Antonio, he'll show him his new quarters."

Francis lets out a heavy sigh. "Yes, _sir._"

Francis drags Alfred along reluctantly. He stops to ask one of the other crew members if he's seen Antonio, and finally they find a darker skinned man mopping the deck. "Well hey there Francis, who have you got today?" The man beams, and Alfred notices his heavy Spanish accent.

"Hey Antonio, Arthur says you'll show this one to his living quarters. _I_ recruited the boy for my own use, but now he wants him as his own little cabin boy. I don't get it, he doesn't like people."

"Hold on, he specifically told you he wanted him? That _is_ weird. Well, I can't question him then, Arthur gets what he wants. He is the captain after all."

"Yes he is that, but still..."

"Well, no more arguing. If I remember correctly, you've got some more things to finish today, I'll take the guy. The ship will be leaving any minute now." Antonio leans his mop against the wall and smiles at Alfred, motioning for him to follow. Once Francis is out of earshot, the Spaniard breaks their silence. "Don't mind him, he's known the Arthur longer than any of us, so he gets jealous when he takes a liking to anyone. Or, I assume so, Arthur's never really liked anyone before. Most new crew members he either shoots on the spot of pushes 'em overboard. You must be something special."

"Really? That's awesome!" Alfred lights up, excited and happy to be away from the Frenchman.

"Yes. To be honest, I'm only here because he _hates_ me. He attacked us at sea and he came out of nowhere! I'm the only one who lived... He took me prisoner and I've been on his ship since." He whimpers before leading him down a hall below deck and bringing him to a room with stacked hammocks. "Pick any empty one you like. Soon enough, Francis will come get you and explain what you'll be doing." Alfred nods. "Oh and I'm Antonio Fernandez." He smiles. "Let me know if you need anything or have any questions." And with that he's gone.

Alfred sits on one of the hammocks that doesn't seem to be occupied and is in the corners, somewhat away from the rest. He can't help but wonder to himself what he's gotten into, but is excited at the same time. _'We'll be leaving any minute now.' _He remembers and runs up on deck, just in time to watch his city disappear into the blurry haze of clouds and fog. "Bye Matthew..." He whispers to himself, referencing his brother and feeling a little guilty. _'Am I ok with letting my own brother think I'm dead? _"I'll come back someday." He concludes aloud to himself.

"Don't be so sure." Of all the people on the ship, _Francis_ shows up.

"I know I will, trust me." 

"I don't have time for such pathetic things as trust. I couldn't care if you get back here or not." He walks away and Alfred sighs. He looks around the ship, finding there to be all kinds of ethnicity. Arthur must have kept survivors from every pillage. Alfred can't help but wonder about what other rumors aren't true as he looks up to the dark grey sails, tattered and torn yet somehow still able to function. Stabbed into the mast by a knife, flaps a torn British flag and Alfred can't decide is Arthur's against England of not.

"Alfred?" Antonio reappears at his side.

"Hm?" He mindlessly replies.

"Your night's over. Get to bed, you have a long day tomorrow! You'll need as much sleep as you can get." Green eyes smile warmly, though sympathetically and Alfred yawns.

"Alright, good evening Antonio."

"See you tomorrow amigo!"

…

The night is different, being on a rocking ship and surrounded by snoring men. He's used to living alone, not with so many people. A few hours pass and no matter how tird he is, he still can't sleep. At some point he must have, though he seems to have a long lifetime ahead of him...

**Oh look, another short chapter ^^; they'll get longer after this one =3 So, we've met the Captain of the ship, proving to be not nearly as fierce as expected. Or will he be? Who knows. Will Alfred ever see his brother again? And where will the life of a pirate take him? And in the next chapter, we'll get some backstory on the others on the ship =D Review for meeee!**


	3. Getting to Know the Place

**I'm so sorry it took to long to update! School, work, everything at once! SO much going on, and I'm trying to get these out faster!**

"Jones! Get your lazy arse out of bed!" Francis flips his hammock and watches happily as the younger man falls to the floor.

"Ow! What was that for?" Alfred growls, rubbing his head.

"You have work to do, get dressed and lets go!"

"Dressed? In what?"

"This." Francis drops some clothes onto him on the floor. Alfred sits up and stares at the Frenchman, waiting for him to leave so he change but he makes no attempt to. "What? You have no privacy anymore, hurry up!"

Alfred rolls his eyes, putting on a baggy white shirt. "Really?"

"Yes, now come on." Footsteps echo down the hall and Francis snaps to attention. Alfred pays no mind, taking his time in pulling up his new pair of knee high knickers.

Arthur is suddenly standing in the doorway, seeing the angered Francis and Alfred with his pants around his knees. The young man flushes and attempts to pull them up, falling in the process.

"Bloody hell, what was I thinking?" Arthur mumbles, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Right. Well, hurry up you bleeding idiots! You've both got work to do!"

Alfred notices that the Brit is much more composed today. He doesn't have his hat on, and his sandy blond hair is wild, and it's rather obvious he's hungover. "You have _got_ to stop staring at me." He glares venomously at the man on the floor.

"I'll leave you two alone then." Francis says awkwardly, slipping out the door.

As soon as he's gone, Alfred is the first to speak."I'll stare wherever the hell I want." He says frankly, only after noting his gun still isn't residing in it's holster.

"Excuse me, you prat?" He nearly yells, staring in disbelief.

"You heard me." He stands up, finally getting his knickers up and shoots a challenging look.

The Brit merely scoffs, inside wondering how a kid can be so brave. He's almost impressed by the actions, though also annoyed anyone would challenge him. The other smirks when the Captain himself is speechless, but finds he quickly recomposes himself, crossing his arms. "You're first day and I already wish to hang your head on my wall. You must be _so _proud, but don't get conceited, I'll break you. Everyone on my ship has been conformed to _my_ whim, not their own and you're no different. I have my ways." He sneers in Alfred's face with an evil grin.

Alfred flushes once more at his own misinterpreted implication but quickly shakes it off, matching the others tone. "I'm not easy to break, _Captain._" He smiles sweetly at his superior, who glares in return.

"We'll see about that." The grin quickly returns to Arthur's face and he straightens himself once more, unfortunately finding that when Alfred stands up straight he's shorter. The one emerald eye pierces blue ones as he stares up at the younger man. "Hmph." He turns on his heel and walks to the door, looking back only for a moment. "Come with me, I'll show you your job today."

Alfred hurriedly follows the captain out the door and up on deck. He smiles to himself, seeing as he stood up to him and hasn't been killed yet. From what he hears, if it had been anyone else they wouldn't even have been welcomed on the ship. "Hurry up!" The Brit snaps without looking behind him. "You." He suddenly stops, turning on his heel and glaring when the other almost runs into him. "I want you to clean this ship top to bottom today. It's rather filthy." He grabs a mop leaning against a nearby wall. "And if by sunset, I can't see my reflection in the floor, I'll wrap you in chains and drop _you _to the bottom of the sea and use you as the new anchor."

"Alright." He doesn't address him as 'Sir' or 'Captain', mostly to see how he'll react. He simply receives a sneer and the other turns on his heel and walks off.

"You are aware this deck isn't exactly reflective, yes?" Antonio pipes in once the superior has vanished below deck.

"Well, yeah, it's polished wood but I'll still get it clean!" He beams, surprisingly bright.

"I think you are going to be alright here." The Spaniard smiles at him. "Just hope we don't come upon any other ships for a few weeks."

"Why not?" But it's too late, the other is already disappearing below deck and he's left surrounded by people, yet alone. He sets off to cleaning, and the hours to pass are as expected. Long, _painful_ hours proceed and he scrubs every inch of the deck. It doesn't help that some of the other sailors, including Francis, intentionally cause a mess and leave it for him to deal with, laughing at his defeated sighs. He's about to give up when footsteps come up behind him. "Francis, if that's you again I'm going to run your own sword through your head and shove you off the edge of this ship that way, while I'm cleaning up your blood I can take pride in the fact that's the last freaking mess you'll ever make." He stands up and flips around, only to find himself looking down to a flaming British Captain.

"Lad, I can assure you if you ever speak to me that way again, you'll be replacing the Frenchman in the tale you've just whimsically spun." Alfred is about to apologize but he's cut off by a hand. "None the less, you've done a rather fine job considering some of the rubbish we sail with." He silently glares at a few surrounding sailors. "I suppose you'll get to live another day." With a nod, Arthur heads to the wheel of the ship and begins conversation with the man steering. Alfred watches him in the afternoon light, golden hair shining and single emerald eye standing out against his red coat. He wonders to himself what he finds so interesting in his Captain...

With one last go over the deck with the weary mop, Alfred reports to Francis, unwillingly, for another assignment.

"That wasn't enough for you? _Fine_. Go below deck and help prepare food." An ugly glare graces Francis' face. He's obviously decided he doesn't like Alfred, and his feelings are definitely requited.

Despite that, Alfred heads below deck in search of some sort of meal preparation area. It isn't hard; all he has to do is follow the smell of rank fish. Soon enough he finds himself in a dimly lit room filled with barrels and an angry looking blond man, though not much older than himself. With a loud yell, the man drives a knife through a fish, sticking it to one of the square wooden plates on his table. Alfred decides wearily to speak up. "Um...hello?"

"Hm?" The blond looks at him squinting a little in the dim light. He lights another lamp nearby that's swinging from the ceiling. "Who are you?" He has a distinctly German accent.

"I'm Alfred F. Jones, and I was sent down here to help you..." He says, not in his normal loud voice.

"Help me? Whoever sent you must not like you very much. I was taken when the Captain dropped anchor in Germany. I was minding my own running a wonderful pub but they burned it down, and I was taken prisoner to make their meals. It's been a few weeks now, and I still haven't been able to get home. Unfortunately for me, I rarely see the light of day, all because that bastard first mate stuck me down here to rot!" He yells the last part to the ceiling, as if hoping Francis himself will hear it.

"Francis is the one who sent me down here as well."

"I don't think that man likes anyone but Kirkland on this ship." He sounds almost suspicious as he pulls his knife from the plate. "I could just as easily kill him, but then I'd be done in myself. There's no getting out of here kid... Go back up there, I don't need help. Tell _Kirkland_ you need something to do, not Francis. Better yet, find Antonio. I'm Ludwig, by the way." Alfred nods to him kindly with a thankful smile and finds his way back to the deck.

He comes up to find chaos on deck. His first full day, and hasn't a clue what's happening. Francis and Arthur are both screaming commands at the sailors who are sprinting about the deck. He looks out to the sea, seeing another ship a few miles off. He thinks about what Antonio said and jumps to the conclusion there's about to be a battle. He can't help but be excited, thinking about how Arthur's ship has obviously never been defeated. He's expecting a guaranteed victory, and a thrilling fight. Antonio appears by him suddenly, a wide grin on his own face. "Don't worry amigo, this is precautionary. We probably won't end up firing unless they get too close or try anything stupid. Most other ships who see our sails would rather sink their own ships.

Alfred feels disappointed but keeps a small sliver of hope that the captain on the other ship is an idiot indeed, but he soon notices it won't be that way. The other ship is turning and Arthur looks more relaxed, signaling that there is no threat. Taking his chance, Alfred slides across the hectic deck to the Captain. "What was that?"

"A damned Prussian ship under the control of a impulsive idiot!" Arthur grits his teeth, glaring at the eagle on the flag sailing away. "Somehow, no matter _how _ dumb he is, he's still evades me!" He's practically yelling after the ship that's slowly getting away.

"So why not follow him?" Alfred asks dumbly.

Green eye stares to the ocean and he grudgingly explains. "I... Can't..." The younger doesn't say anything, either waiting for elaboration or nothing considering the implied back story. Arthur merely shakes his head though, proving it to be the latter. "Well, since you've got the deck clean, are you doing anything else?"

"Well, no?" He looks at the Captain and cocks his head. For the first time, the Brit returns his gaze without hate, anger or otherwise. It's impartial, rather than warm but that's to be expected.

"Well, come along then." Arthur says nothing more about where they're going but Alfred smiles.

"You want to know what I think?" The younger inquires as he follows on the others heel.

"No, no I _really _don't." Decisive, at least.

"I think you're not the whip wielder they say you are. You know all those rumors you have slipping off the lips of every man in England? I don't believe a single one anymore." He disregards his Captain's answer.

"Anymore? You believed them once?"

"Well... Yeah, everyone who's not met you has right to believe them. You're the most notorious pirate in the country; undefeated for eternity. People believe you're the _devil_. Rumors like that, you kinda have to believe right?"

"You don't _have to _believe anything, boy. What's more, why would the devil sail a ship?" His question, while seemingly simple at first, struck Alfred as seemingly logical. It made more sense than he expected, anyway.

"I don't know... Don't they say the River Styx separates the living world from the underworld? That's reason enough to sail right?"

Arthur looks at him, slowing his pace, somewhat astonished he actually has an answer. "I see... Not bad...Jones. And as for the rumors, you know what they say, the bad guys always win right? That's all there is to it, that's why I'm the 'ill-famed' pirate as you say. This isn't a story book Mums read the children, this is real life."

Alfred smiles slightly before the other suddenly stops. "Well," Arthur continues. "Have you ever run a ship? I may find you annoying, but you're more tolerable than _Bonnefoy_." The Brit glares across the deck to where the Frenchman is scolding some angry sailor.

"No, I haven't. I haven't got much of a history on a ship." Alfred's honest, and curious to see where their conversation is going.

"You'll need to look like a first mate then. Come along." Arthur walks on to the Captain's quarters, the younger man on a tight leash behind. He shows him to a closet in his room, pulling out a dark coat and throwing it around Alfred's shoulders. "Seems about right." He also hands him a belt with a small dagger. "Go on, dress yourself. I'm certain you can do that although your display this morning does say otherwise." He raises his eyebrow and Alfred laughs, though he may be out of place, and pulls on the coat.

He smiles to the captain, straightening said coat and tilts his head. "Seems to fit."

"Yes, yes it does. Alright," Arthur's interrupted as Francis slams through the door.

"Arthur, we've got to port."

"Bloody hell, why!" Arthur instantly blazes at the intruder. "_Don't_ call me Arthur, and _don't_ come in unannounced!" He grabs a nearby bottle of rum, shattering it on the wall as before.

"First of all, _sir_, you've got to stop doing that! One day you might actually kill me!"

"Why the hell do you think I do it?" It's basically a screaming match now.

"Anyway! It seems our crew forgot...a few things." He says cautiously. Alfred rolls his eyes, making the Frenchman glare at him.

"God damn it!" Arthur snaps. "Fine. I wish to be in port no longer than one night though."

"Alright." Unfortunately, Alfred's training to replace Francis is going to be postponed.

….

In the middle of the night, they reach a harbor. Alfred is stuck on the ship as a few boats go in to shore. While the crew is recovering forgotten items, Francis slips into a nearby tavern. A young woman greets him. "Bonjour, mad..." He kisses her left hand where a wedding ring might go. "Moiselle? Single, you?" He smiles flirtatiously.

Alcohol: supplied.

Oh this would be an interesting trip indeed.

Alfred sleeps much better that night, rather excited about the happenings with the captain He smiles to himself, finding a connection with Arthur. (He dares call him by name in his head and has to resist from laughing.) He's beyond excited for a new day, also wondering if he can kill Francis without being noticed...

**Again, I'm soooo sorryyyyyyyy for not updating! D: I'll try and get longer chapters, and faster! Thanks for being patient X3 Sorry for any mistakes as well, I'm far too lazy to read over it at the moment! Also hints at conflict =D Who might the impulsive idiot be in charge of the Prussian ship? (and they say there are no dumb questions...) anyway, review nicely and tell me where you want it to go!**


	4. Regrets

Guys. I cannot express my sorrow for taking so effing long. I imagine I've lost followers on this story, but thanks to anyone who knew I'd be back. I've lost track of life, but I figured I'd type a short chapter to remind you guys that this story will be finished. I'm sorry it's so short, but it's a bit of a recap to let you know how all the boys are feeling as well as a bit of foreshadowing. I forgot my initial direction I'd been going honesty: I completely forgot. BUT now, I've read all your lovely reviews and I have a plan that will keep everyone happy, so yes I'll update more than like, once a year ok? I love you all! Enjoy!

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><p>The days ahead seemed long. Feeling as though an eternity passed, Alfred was surprised to figure it had only been a few weeks. The world seemed to stop for everyone on one dark, wet day.<p>

Waves grumbled under the ship, and the crew was especially irritable. Even the ever cheerful Antonio had something on his mind and remained quiet. Alfred hid in the cabin, pretending to be busy. He had a small piece of paper and scribbled on it._ Mattie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left. You'd hate me if you knew_, he wrote. Alfred ran his hand through his blond hair and sighed shakily._ I'm sorry I was all you had_. He ran out of room on his small paper and closed his eyes tightly, fighting back tears in case anyone walked in. Maybe the excitement was dying off from his first days on the ship, but he was feeling worse by the day about what he'd done to his brother._ Has he even noticed I'm gone?_ Their relationship wasn't perfect, but they were the only family either of them had. His only reconciliation was that he forgot for a brief moment about his wrong doings when he was helping the captain.

Meanwhile back at home, Matthew had in fact noticed his brother's disappearance. He was scared, but nothing was turning up. None of Alfred's neighbors were even aware he was gone, though some mentioned it had been more peaceful. No one even seemed to care if a young man disappeared around the docks. It was normal evidently. Maybe he left, maybe it was as Matthew feared but in any case Alfred was gone and he was scared. He peered out the window of Alfred's small house at the threatening clouds in the sky. While he lived out of the town a ways, he decided to stay in this small house until his brother came home. _If_ he came home.

Arthur sat in his own room that dark day, rubbing the bridge of his nose and swirling the drink in his hand. He looked in a small mirror in his hand and sneered at how tired he looked. Of all the ships sailing, and all the pirates who feared him, there was still one who avoided him undeniably. He teased, and drifted just out of sight. Arthur was lost and confused. Perhaps he was unable to catch the damned Prussian ship because he was old and tired. Oh man, was he tired. He was tired of the chase, tired of Francis and the crew, and tired of being tired. He felt like his world was slipping from his fingers. The only time he felt young again, and he wouldn't admit this, was when he had the ambitious Alfred in his company.

Francis grumbled quietly to himself as he watched the crew members shuffle around halfheartedly doing their jobs. He hadn't talked to the captain in days, aside from taking orders. What's more, he was lonely. Without the attention of his friend, he was lost by the wayside. No one seemed to respect him anymore. He was angered and hurt, and most of all annoyed with Alfred. He needed the attention he lacked for so long, but they weren't planning to port for weeks more. He missed the soft touch of a woman, and the smell of her skin. He missed feminine company, and it didn't help his current situation.

Everyone had something heavy on their hearts, that dark and cloudy day. It looked like the same day all of their lives were shaken up and mixed together. None of them knew where their lives were heading, they only knew what they wanted. Well, at least some of them did.

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><p><em><strong>~K<strong>_

Thank for all of you who have been patient with me! I will be updating more often like I said, so stick around for the best part! Review for me (Be nice please) *loves*


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